Adamant
by El Burrito
Summary: In a decrepit shack on the glacier, Reno finds redemption and Yuffie finds escape.
1. Hiding

Post vii, AC doesn't exist. Maybe Yuffie/Reno. Haven't decided yet. Don't think so though.

---------

**Adamant**

_Adamant: (a) impervious to pleas, persuasion, requests, reason;  
(n) Adamant is used to refer to any especially hard substance, whether composed of diamond, some other gemstone, or some type of metal. Both adamant and diamond derive from the Greek word αδαμας (adamas), meaning "untameable". The word adamant is comparable to the word brimstone, an archaic word for sulphur._

Loneliness was a bitch. It was dull at best, and excruciating at worst. It slowly seeped in through your skin and your bones and your organs, until it was ground into you like month-old roadkill in tarmac, until loneliness was your life and your life was loneliness. It was a lifestyle, like the born-again Rude said vegetarianism was, and Elena's screwed-up niece claimed of anorexia.

Reno had never really liked the company of other people, but he was finding he disliked not having it more. It helped that the landscape of Great Glacier was so confrontingly desolate and huge, shrinking anyone who stood on it to atom-sized significance. There was also the potential creeping madness and no one to laugh at the jokes and remarks he made aloud (leading to the suspicion of the creeping madness), his breath clouding the freezing air.

His days were taken with hunting and his nights with forgetting. Hunting brought relief from remembering, his mind cleared of everything except keeping every muscle still, his crude spear in hand and his eyes on the hot springs, waiting for something to come to drink.

Mostly he ate snake or deer things, occasionally a bandersnatch that had wandered too far north. The girl-looking things he was constantly mistaking for real people, wandering over to them, excited and reluctant, and then waking up hours later, frozen, confused and with his weapon and food missing. The hunt for the day would be over, and he'd have to return to his shack to carve a new spear and go without food until the next evening. His nightstick was locked away, surrounded by invisibly solid, aching memories he wasn't ready for.

Every day as Reno trudged toward his shack, he wished he'd spent more time listening in Shinra Troop training instead of devising ways he could kill the person in front of him with just his stapler and eraser, or wondering how he could cut the teacher to the raw with just a flippant remark, something he'd never needed training in. He'd failed the knowledge part of the SOLDIER entrance essay spectacularly, but they'd been so impressed with the creativity, intelligence and ruthlessness they'd found in the paper he'd been invited to join the Turks the very next day.

It wasn't like knowing how best to shine a sword or charge headlong into battle prepared to give up your life was at all anything Reno wanted. But he did recall something about materia and what made it work in weapons and armour, and since the nightstick was locked away and he'd never been one to bother with armour when just _dodging _or_ avoiding attacks _worked so much more effectively, he was stuck making the uber-necessary cooking and heating fires by hand, his materia glistening uselessly in the cupboard.

After one particularly successful day, he returned with a bandersnatch thrown over his shoulder, his spear unbroken and a pile of wood under his arm, kicked the door open and promptly deposited everything into the snow.

Large, worried brown eyes underlined with dark smudges turned hostile. "What are you doing here?" the intruder had the nerve to demand, her small voice bigger than the tundra around them.

"I live here," Reno drawled. "You?"

"I thought it was empty." The tiny Wutaian princess, slightly less tiny than when he saw her last, scrutinised his house closely. "It was last time we came."

"Yeah, well. Not any more. Get out."

"Don't be too polite. And no."

"What are you doing here?"

"I live here too."

"No. You don't. Get out."

But of course she didn't. She sat on the chair he'd built out of wood lugged all the way across the glacier – and not done such a bad job on, he thought, considering he'd never been much of a handyman. At least this one hadn't crumbled into jagged sticks beneath him like his other attempts – and continued her examination.

"Where do you sleep?"

"In a pretty thatched cottage in Mideel," he told her sarcastically, because she would never know how close it was to the truth. He flung the bandersnatch carcass onto the table an inch from her, and was slightly impressed that she didn't even flinch. "In the fucking bed."

The fucking bed was a pile of sacks and torn clothing and he didn't even need to look at her to know her reaction wouldn't be particularly awe-filled.

"Where do I sleep?"

"Wherever the fuck spoiled princesses like to sleep. In princess beds in Wutai. Or out on the bluff. I don't care, as long as it isn't here."

She met his irritation with amusement. The girl had never been particularly worried by anything anyone else did. "Why are you so cranky? You're out here living in the wilderness all on your own. One would think you'd welcome company."

"One would be arrogant to force oneself onto me and make assumptions of what I want."

"You don't want company? At all?" She was disbelieving. He was up to his elbows in bandersnatch as he replied,

"Maybe I never wanted company." Maybe he didn't deserve it.

"Well, you've got it." She settled back. "You're not going to eat that raw, are you?"

"I'm not a fucking animal." It had been so long since he'd had a conversation, and that had been more of an argument/brawl than a chat. He found he was no good at talking unless he was being offensive. It was like he'd forgotten how to talk, but just in the important ways.

Yuffie took no offence. She was good at that. "So what do you do for fun around here?"

There _was_ no fun around here. That was the point. That was why he was here.

"Why are _you_ here?" He stressed the _you_ as if she'd asked first. "Aren't you a princess or something?"

"Why are you?"

He ignored her question as she'd ignored his, and focussed on carving up the bandersnatch. Rude had made him dinner up to two or three nights a week when they were still in Midgar, skilled, self-sufficient bachelor to Reno's lazy slob. Rude's fridge equally represented each food group (half of the things in there Reno had never even heard of) while Reno's was buried beneath takeaway menus and bursting with alcohol.

"I'm not feeding you, you know," he told the ninja, who was hungrily eyeing his carcass.

"That may be, but the bandersnatch is."

"I'm not giving you any."

"It's up to you. You give it to me, or I beat you up and take it."

Reno grinned for the first time in months. His lips and face had been gnawed at by the cold wind and it hurt quite a bit but it was worth it, especially with the fury it summoned to Yuffie's face.

"You're going to beat me up, Princess?"

"If it's necessary. And don't call me that."

"Call you what, Princess?" Reno felt almost guilty at his joy. He'd missed nothing more than antagonising people.

The shoe planted firmly in his kneecap under the table suggested he _might _have chosen the wrong person to relaunch his hobby with.

"Bitch."

"Dick. Now gimme some bandersnatch or face my might."

Reno attempted to hide his grin this time. A little bit. "No girl is going to beat me up for meat. Especially some little kid of a girl who goes around kicking knee caps."

"I _don't_ go around kicking knee caps. I was aiming elsewhere but missed," she said primly.

Reno grinned and went back to sawing bloody chunks off his quarry. "Alright," he conceded as she didn't get up and gave no indication that she was ever going to, "We can share. But since you're a little girl you're only having a little girl sized portion, and as long as you force your company on me you help to get food."

"Very well." Yuffie stood up and crossed to a bag sitting in the middle of the room. "Where do you want it?"

Reno glanced up, confused, then slowly walked across to her, entranced, as she produced sliced meat, fruit, cheese, hard bread, butter, a few vegetables and a huge sack of rice.

"Hang on. You had all this and you put up a fight about a _raw, bloody bandersnatch?_"

"It wasn't about the bandersnatch," she informed him, "It was about status."

Reno looked at her a second, then turned back to the food, grinning like a little kid. His show of 'I don't want you here' was over, no matter how hard he fought it. Besides, it wasn't like Yuffie was going to make things _easier, _so it wasn't cheating. He smiled some more as Yuffie pulled out a bag of brightly coloured sweets, like miniature materia. Well, it wasn't cheating much.

------

Stay tuned, if you want. I've done very little planning on this so the adventure will be equal for the both of us.


	2. Running

**Chapter Two**

Shake was a little moron. Or he had been. Yuffie still remembered the day the two of them had been racing up Da-Chao, how he'd taunted, "You're a crappy runner, Yukkie!" She'd beaten him up there, but only because he'd doubled over with laughter at both his genius nick-name and his use of a naughty word. But oh, if he could see her now. Now she'd developed into a mind-blowingly fantastic runner.

Don't like your town? Run away. Someone doesn't like that you've stolen their materia? Run away. Kill the love of your life? Run like hell and don't look back. Run all the way to someone you thought had left your life for good and was actually possibly looking worse than you were, who was fucked up when you knew him and was infinitely worse now. Camp out in his little shack with him where the first night you're there your feet get so cold on the floor that they go numb, but painful-numb, and when you hold them near the fire the agony is so bad you scream, then curse yourself for being so weak while Reno just watches you, his eyes empty and sad, and knowing and thoughtful and kind of like his- but you're not thinking of him, not now and not ever. Because you're running.

Reno didn't say much at all that first night. Once she'd revealed the food and his aggressiveness dissipated despite himself, he settled into a quiet watchfulness, which made her feel much more uneasy than his shouting had. He'd never been like this.

The first time she'd seen him, outside Gongaga, he'd been laughing and shouting expletive-ridden taunts at she, Cloud, Tifa and all of their mothers, despite the fact that he was clearly losing. Nothing had ever seemed to get him down: even after Meteor was summoned, he seemed more intent on the joy he got from kneecapping Rude when he wasn't expecting it, just because he was bored, or the crunch of Don Corneo's fingers under his foot. Even that time under Midgar, the last time they'd fought, Elena and Rude were washed out and lifeless, but Reno bounced about and shouted with as much enthusiasm ever. Something pretty bad had obviously happened, to force him to grow up and grow so solemn. Yuffie doubted it was as bad as what she'd done, still.

The bandersnatch was ignored for the time, and Yuffie prepared rice and lentils. The old Reno probably would have thrown them all over Rude, or spat in them and handed them back, laughing, but this new one watched her make it, practically salivating. While she was cooking, just as it was getting dark, Reno took the bandersnatch carcass and left. When he returned his hands were covered in its blood, but empty.

"Where did you put it?" Yuffie asked, kneeling on the ground to stir.

Reno jerked a thumb over his shoulder wordlessly.

"Should have kept it. My food won't last forever so we'll need it at some point."

"Yeah, that was my thinking when first I got out here. But stockpiling doesn't work." He threw himself onto the ground in front of the fire, reaching behind him for a blanket.

"Why?"

"Things smell it. Come. Got savaged the first week I was here. Woke up with a bloody great rock-monster on my chest."

"Why'ncha just kill it?"

"Spears are weak against stone. Surprisingly."

"Spears? What about that lightning stick thing?"

Reno didn't reply, staring into the fire. Something about him had changed, and Yuffie knew he wouldn't be answering any more questions.

After they'd eaten – Reno didn't have any bowls, so they'd had to scrape the rice from the cooking pot with their hands – they sat in silence.

"What do you normally do at night?" Yuffie asked him, growing antsy with boredom.

"Nothing much."

There was a time when Reno would be as insane as she at the prospect of sitting still for several hours.

"At all?"

"What is there to do?"

"I don't know. Tell me a story."

"Piss off."

Yuffie dropped to her back, staring at the ceiling. "Something with a moral. A good moral though. Like… killing can be fun and interesting. Or like… sometimes guys only want one thing, and when they're done with you they'll throw you away like a used napkin."

"I don't know any stories."

"Well make one up."

Reno didn't even bother to respond.

"GOD! This place SUCKS!" Yuffie leapt up again, crossing to the door. Wrenching it open, she was faced with a wall of complete blackness.

"What did you expect to find here?"

Escape. Somewhere to hide out for a while. But she hadn't factored in such banality and terrible company.

"I don't know. Whatever. So what's happened to you?" she turned back to him, one leg bent and resting against the doorframe.

Reno just looked at her.

"Like, how come you haven't tried to jump me yet or anything? The old Reno would be all over me."

"Maybe neither Reno likes little kids."

"I'm not a kid anymore." She was eighteen, and if still scrawny, at least she was taller, and longer-legged, something she'd been proud of. She'd finally managed to attract… no. No, no, no. Running.

Reno snorted, staring into the fire. Yuffie watched him for a while, waiting for retaliation, then twisted away, closed the door and crossed the shack. There wasn't much in it. She poked at Reno's toothbrush and razor – naturally, even with the nearest person hundreds of miles away, a Turk would stay clean-shaven – kicked at the pile of rags he slept on and finally flopped down across from him.

"You've got boring."

His eyes slid up to meet hers, wordlessly.

"How did it happen? Like, even though you were ShinRa's lapdog and our enemy, you used to be cool. Now you're just… boring. There has to be a story there."

"What's Cloud doing these days?"

The spontaneity of Reno's question took Yuffie aback. "Um," she stammered, "Uh, I don't know. Haven't seen him in a while. Last time I saw him he was helping to rebuild Midgar. God knows why; he always hated the place."

"Something we had in common."

"_You _hated Midgar? But it was all ShinRa-y. Like you."

"It was a hellhole. Wish I could have crushed it all like I did sector 7."

"Well, you're still a bastard." Yuffie found that strangely reassuring.

"He ever get with Tifa?"

Yuffie frowned. "Why do you care? You in love with him or something?"

Reno shrugged, refusing to take the bait and assure Yuffie he wasn't _so _different. "He was an adversary, and a pretty good one. Just interested in how things turned out for him."

"A whole lot better than they turned out for you. Last thing I would have guessed, you not being a screwed-up Sephiroth clone who had the love of your life killed right in front of you and basically forgot your entire childhood." Yuffie stood up. "I'm going to bed. Have fun fire-staring."

She tunnelled into the pile of rags, Reno not uttering a single sound of protest, resolving to leave the next day, and never return to this dull, suffocating shack.


End file.
